Not needed, the aftermath
by ViviTheFolle
Summary: I recently read something that almost had me spontaneously combust with rage and this pretty much wrote itself. The original story is "Not needed" by Romantic Silence; sorry for hijacking your story… but not really.


**DISCLAIMER:** Yes, I don't like Hermione, both as a narrative device (turning into Rowling's perfect angel of self-insertness from _Goblet of Fire_ onwards) and as a character (taking Ron's feelings for granted every single time and never giving him the slightest bit of encouragement, because she thinks he magically figured out she likes him; never pursuing him and waiting for him to make the first move when she _knows_ he's insecure as f*ck and throwing a fit when he tries to get love somewhere else; displaying sociopathic behaviour and causing _lasting physical harm_ to other people, including Ron, AND NEVER GETTING CALLED OUT ON IT (worst of all the narrative seems to portray her as the victim instead); never apologizing for anything ever and therefore never maturing at all but somehow the fans got into their heads that Hermione was "more mature" because durr hurr Harry Ron big dumb boys misandry is so fashion-forward you guyz; being said to be a genius but when you read between the lines she's average at best, her sole _actual_ display of intelligence was figuring out the Basilisk in _CoS_ and then it's just Rowling dumbing down everyone so Hermione can give the answer)…  
But I can like her if she's well-written and makes mistakes and isn't the hideous paragon of perfection every other damn fanfic seems to portray her as. _Not needed_ was one of these fanfics and while I'd normally just ignore it and go on my merry way to collect more Ron-centric fics, it just… made me so sick to my stomach, I couldn't let it go gentle into that good night.  
Harry's rather OoC here, being a lot more sensitive and insightful than he normally is and noticing more things about Ron; but since _Not needed_ had Hermione be OoC by making her into a full-blown narcissistic sociopath who thinks Harry's in love with her and bullies an ALREADY emotionally-shattered Ron, I just thought it'd balance things out.

(I do ship Romione. But I also ship Hermione/getting-blasted-with-a-good-dose-of-reality-in-the-face-and -learning-that-she-has-to-work-on-herself-a-whole-lot-because-the-narrative-won't-excuse-your-every-action-anymore, and my true OTP is Ron/being-cared-for-and-loved-for-who-he-truly-is-and-not-what-this-godforsaken-fandom-and-himself-believe-he-is.)  
(Also people who write canon-compliant stories that pair Harry and Hermione together have me cackling like crazy. The girl's flaws are strangely reminiscent of Aunt Petunia's and Umbridge's _and you think Harry is destined to marry that?_ )  
(I also ship Ron/low-self-esteem but shh I'm a sucker for angst)

So, well, rant over, on to my fanfic of… a fanfic? *mind blown*

* * *

Harry jolted awake as he heard voices. He quickly patted down his duvet to retrieve his wand, when he remembered dully that Hermione and he had managed to break it during their less-than-productive escapade at Godric's Hollow; jumping out of bed, he put his glasses onto his face and hurriedly scanned the tent to figure out where Hermione's wand was.

And the answer was: nowhere.

Hermione had left him defenceless in this tent and if she was found and killed by Death Eaters her enchantments would fall down and he'd be on his own, powerless, magicless, and Voldemort would win, and the wizarding world would disappear in the darkness –

"Harry! Come on out!" Hermione's voice announced cheerfully. Cheerful? What the hell? They'd been stranded on their own, without Ron, without hope, with a Horcrux –

Where was the Horcrux?

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, what if this was a Death Eater Polyjuiced as Hermione who'd stolen the Horcrux and was now planning to kill him –

His brain slowed down a second.

Why would a Death Eater steal Hermione's wand and the Horcrux and not murder him in the same breath? Why would they Polyjuice as his friend and then wait for him to wake up and then murder him? For fun?

Now that he was thinking about it, this would just be the thing Bellatrix Lestrange would pull off, but surely she was the only one among the Death Eaters to be that insanely sadistic.

… He hoped she was.

Okay, think, think… The question. At least the safety question would work. Something only Hermione would know… Something personal…

"What did Ron call you in first year?" he blurted out, and almost smacked himself. Great job, genius, she'd been crying over him ever since he'd been gone, but really that was the first question without an easily guessable answer he'd found.

"A nightmare", Hermione's voice answered, and was that his imagination or was she _not_ crying her eyes out?

He cautiously took a peek through the tent's flap.

And almost threw himself through it when he saw who Hermione was with.

Ron. Ron, his red hair covered by a thin veil of frost; nose and cheeks and ears reddened by the cold; his blue eyes strangely bright; in his hand, he was not only holding the bloody locket, but also the mythical sword of Gryffindor.

Ron.

Ron was back.

His best mate was back.

"The return of the prodigal son", Hermione drawled, pushing a lock of her hair behind her shoulder.

Ron shrugged and gave Harry a small smile. A very, very small smile. A smile that was a far cry from any normal Ron-smile; a smile so brittle, so faint, so pained that Harry wanted to cry just by looking at it.

"I'll just…" Ron croaked, then cleared his throat. "I'll keep guard. Call me if you… need me, or anything." He turned to Hermione, who was looking at him in a strangely patronizing way – as if she were congratulating a dog for not peeing on the carpet – and gave her both the locket and Gryffindor's sword, before sitting down on the big branch that they had used as an improvised bench, his back turned to Harry.

Harry couldn't believe it. This was how it was going to be? Ron not talking, not speaking – Hermione walked by Harry and tugged on his arm. He wanted to talk to Ron, he wanted to get news of Ginny, of the Weasleys, of everyone, Ron had left because of that in the first place – but Hermione almost dragged him inside the tent.

"There's a Tabboo on You-Know-Who's name, Ron told me, so we absolutely mustn't say it, at any cost, or we'll be captured." Harry was going to ask for other news when Hermione's expression turned triumphant. "Also… that's one Horcrux less", she claimed, throwing the locket on the table. Harry blinked.

"You mean… You destroyed it?"

"It was a bit more complicated than that", Hermione smiled a bit condescendingly but Harry was used to it. She then proceeded to tell Harry how she had followed a Patronus, one of a doe, that had led her to a small, frozen lake; in its depths resided the sword of Gryffindor, and she'd tried to reach it, almost drowning in the process… if it weren't for Ron – Ron who had come back, thank Merlin! – saving her and collecting the sword in the same breath. Then she'd described how the locket had opened and told terrible, terrible things to his best mate – how he was the "least loved" by his mother, the "least loved" by Hermione – shit, Harry thought, this sounded like the stuff of Ron's worst nightmares, and his heart went out to his friend.

He didn't really know what to make of the revelation that Ron felt like his mother didn't love him, since Mrs Weasley had always seemed perfectly nice to Harry; but he could sympathize about being the "least loved" of two people, what with Cho still being in love with Cedric even after she'd tried to date Harry. Come to think of it, Harry hadn't been that good a boyfriend to her, so maybe she had been right to still pine for Cedric after all.

"Then Ron destroyed the Horcrux, using the sword of Gryffindor", Hermione said, and Harry felt a surge of pride for his best mate. Not only had he returned, not only did he save Hermione from certain death by being ever the knight in shining armour, not only did he not let himself be impressed by Riddle's tricks, but he also finally freed them all from that blasted locket's influence! The Boy-Who-Lived was tempted to go give his friend a pat on the back. "But he broke down crying afterwards." … Oh. Okay, so he had let himself be impressed by Riddle's tricks, but that made the destruction of the damn locket even more impressive!

"So what did you do?" Harry asked anxiously, and secretly hoping Hermione had decided to take matters into her own hands and give the poor bloke a well-deserved snog.

Hermione drew herself up proudly, the way she did when she found out she'd gotten 100% at an exam. "I told him exactly what he needed to hear."

Harry clapped his hands together. "After you kissed him senseless, I hope!"

Hermione's eyes bugged out of her skull and she gave a startled laugh. "What? Ew, are you kidding? After what he did to us? As if I'd reward such behaviour by a kiss!"

… What?

Harry felt an unpleasant coldness creep down his spine. "But… he saved you. He saved your life."

Hermione gave a derisive snort. "And? That's no reason to kiss anyone, much less someone who abandons his friends in the middle of a war."

It was Harry's turn to snort. "Sure, if you can call 'pointlessly running around like headless chickens in the most remote locations in England' a war. So what did you tell him, if you didn't snog him? That he was being ridiculous and of course you loved him?"

Hermione glared at him like Aunt Petunia did when he didn't finish his chores in time. "I told him", she began primly, "that he was being ridiculous and that he'd lost his chance with me. Permanently."

Harry's heart stilled. "You… what?"

She laughed. "Come now, Harry, don't be silly! I might be a little attracted to him, yes, but it doesn't matter if he's going to run away all the time, does it?"

This wasn't real. This couldn't be the real Hermione. His Bellatrix-in-Polyjuice theory was true. "When has Ron ever run away before?" Harry said as he quickly scanned the tent for a potential weapon to use.

"Fourth year, remember?" she sighed as if he'd just failed her greatly. "He got jealous of your success and betrayed you. I, on the other hand, stayed and helped you, because I care about you much more than he ever did."

A raging fire swelled up inside him. "It was just one stupid fight! I was a prat to him as well! He wanted to enter _with me_ , Hermione! He wanted a chance to compete; he didn't think he would actually get in! He was angry because he'd thought I had gone behind his back!"

"A likely story!" Hermione screeched.

"More likely than you think, considering he told me that himself", Harry shot back angrily, forgetting about getting a weapon to blast away this imposter that was strangely well-informed on personal matters. "You don't know everything about Ron, you know; we talk too when you're not around."

Hermione shook her head. "The point is, I gave him a motivational speech. I'm sure he will learn to be a better person from now on."

He was going to be sick. "What do you mean, a motivational speech?" Knowing how horrible Hermione was at handling people – it had always been Ron's forte – this couldn't mean anything good.

Hermione smiled brightly, looking so ridiculously pleased with herself Harry might have laughed if he hadn't been dreading her answer.

"I told him that the locket was spot-on. We never really needed him, didn't we? You and I have always done fine on our own. He's been more of a hindrance than a help and it's a good thing he managed to make himself useful tonight. Think of all the time you've wasted playing chess or Quidditch with him, when you could have studied and prepared for your confrontation with You-Know-Who! It's maddening, isn't it, all these lost opportunities? Meanwhile, you and I have gone through so much together! We're always on our own against the world… It's bound to create a special connection between us, one that Ron noticed but tried to deny. But now the locket has finally shown him the truth! This was just the boost he needed to finally grow up and better himself!"

She looked delighted.

Harry blinked. Several times. He was trying to understand. Understand how Hermione, his supposed friend, could say things like this about his best mate who'd been with him through thick and thin, standing up on a broken leg for him and following him without hesitation to a spider-infested den; understand what exactly this stranger was implying by her "special connection" bullshit and mostly, understand how the so-called brightest witch of her age could believe, one, that he'd have stayed holed up in the library forever without trying to do himself in first, and second, in crap spouted by _a fucking fragment of the_ _very soul of bloody Voldemort_.

And to think this was the girl who looked down on _Luna_ for believing in crazy stuff!

This wasn't Hermione, right? This couldn't be Hermione, this… this…

This couldn't be the same Hermione who had sent canaries to peck Ron's eyes out when he'd decided to date someone, this couldn't be the same Hermione who had disfigured a girl for life, this couldn't be the same Hermione who had tricked Harry into meeting Rita Skeeter when he was trying to go on a date with Cho Chang… and maybe it could very well be the same Hermione.

She was still smiling so smugly, so sure of herself… if pride was fat, she'd probably be as overbloated as Dudley at his fattest, back before third year.

Special connection… special connection…

Fuck, no. No, she couldn't have said that. No, not to Ron, not after he'd just destroyed a Horcrux that had made them all go crazy, not – maybe Hermione was still crazy? Maybe these were the Horcrux's after-effects?

But no, she looked way too happy. She was so glad. So fucking thrilled to be here with him, inside the tent, so perfectly content at being on her own with Harry while Ron was outside standing guard and shaking in the cold, looking worse than death… and probably contemplating it, after being not only tortured by a Horcrux but by the girl he loved…

The girl… Ron… bloody loved…

Harry's hand lashed out on its own accord.

He actually had time to see his hand flying right to Hermione's repulsively prideful face.

He had time to tell himself it might not be very ethical to slap a woman.

He had time to tell himself that it wasn't ethical to psych canaries on a defenceless teenage boy either.

He had time to realize that even though he had just slapped Hermione, he simply couldn't find it in him to give a damn because she'd just done far, far more damage than a mere slap could have ever done.

He was enjoying her look of dumb incomprehension, actually. Like she couldn't understand why he was so furious. Like she truly believed in the infinitely stupid crap she had just spouted. Brightest witch of her age, his arse! He'd have to tell Lupin he'd seriously miscalculated on that one.

"Harry", Hermione whimpered, tears in her eyes as she rubbed her reddened cheek. "Why…?"

"Try to guess", he snapped as he walked to the entrance in hopes to find Ron before the heartbroken bloke did something drastic.

However, the tent's flap was frozen solid beneath his fingers.

His heart hammered in his chest as he felt rage course through him once more. "Open it!" he barked.

Hermione was looking at him like he'd just told her Santa Claus didn't exist. "But… you… why…"

"Open this fucking tent!"

She shook her head, making her tears drop down her face. "What's wrong? What's got you so upset? Is it a nightmare? From V… You-Know-Who?"

He couldn't help it. He laughed. Figures she'd be worried about him when Ron had been the one to dive in a frozen lake, be tormented by something worse than any Dementor, and was currently left alone with thoughts that couldn't possibly be about 'self-betterment'.

"Me? No, I'm perfectly fucking peachy. The one who's just had a nightmare is freezing his arse off out here and you're the one who did this to him!"

She drew herself up and glared at him, putting her fists on her waist, looking so righteous it was nauseating. "I didn't tell him to go stand guard! He said he'd go make himself useful!"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Harry shouted, making Hermione flinch. "Don't you fucking say that about Ron, you hear me?! Let me go see him!"

She had the fucking gall to look surprised. "What for? He's grown-up enough to stand guard on his own, isn't he?"

He was starting to lose patience. "Shut up and let me out of here."

She looked at him disapprovingly, like McGonagall might do, and he felt his self-control slip away even more. "Harry, you're being unreasonable, Ron is perfectly fine –"

"OH, YES, HE'S FINE! HE LOOKS LIKE DEATH TWICE WARMED OVER BUT HE'S FINE!" he bellowed, relishing in Hermione's startled jump. "He just got fucking dumped by the girl he's been in love with since he was fucking twelve and he's been sobbing for the last bloody hour but aside from that HE'S FINE!"

Hermione looked annoyed. _Annoyed_! How dare she – how – "Quit being overdramatic! He may be a little shaken up, but he's stopped crying for a long time."

She'd completely missed the point. She was always missing the point. He could understand his best mate better now. She'd missed the point just like she'd completely missed how she had implied that Ron could not save anything without the use of Felix Felicis; she'd missed the point just like she'd missed how Ron had gifted her bloody perfume for Christmas in fifth year…

She'd missed the point just like she'd missed out on all the times when Harry had heard Ron stifling sobs into his pillows, back when she'd been Petrified, back when she'd claimed Scabbers was completely fine and Ron was being mean on purpose, back when the Yule Ball had happened, back when Ron had nightmares of being back at the Ministry and couldn't protect her, back when she'd paraded McLaggen like a bloody trophy on her arm just because she'd thought he was dating Lavender to spite her…

The ungrateful, blind, selfish little…

Harry had never loathed anyone more than he loathed the girl in front of him. Not even Snape, not even Umbridge, not even Voldemort.

"Listen well because you're not going to hear it twice", he spat, and Hermione gasped as more tears sprung to her eyes. Harry didn't feel an ounce of pity. "The things you've said to Ron are bullshit and if you believe them, fine by me; but you'll believe them on your own. If you're dumb enough to believe in Volde- You-Know-Who's soul more than you can believe in one of your fucking _best friends_ , you betray me worse than all the times you claim Ron's 'betrayed' me."

He went closer to her.

"How dare you even say there's a fucking 'special connection' between us?! Shouldn't I get a say in that? Then I'll get my say, Hermione: I say you're as desirable as my fucking Aunt Petunia! Actually you two would really like each other, you both take somebody to dote on and you dismiss everybody else! For her it was Dudley, for you it was me! Well I've had it with your crap!"

Hermione was making whimpers that were progressively getting louder as she tried to interrupt his tirade. If she thought that sounding like a rabid donkey asking for slaughter was going to appease him, she was gravely mistaken.

"Yeah, yeah, keep crying won't you? That's all you bloody do when things don't go your way", he realized. "You cry and cry so people will pity you and comfort you and tell you you're right. It worked well enough with Ron, didn't it? How many times have you guilt-tripped him into forgiving you?! D'you know he worships the ground you walk on? That he thinks you're the most brilliant thing to ever exist? That he feels like he'll never be good enough for…" As he talked, another realization came to him and he stepped away from the girl in front of him. "Of course you know. Of course you bloody know, because you've fucking seen it. His worst nightmare came to life in front of you and you… you told him it was all true… _you_ …"

There were no words to express his disgust, no word strong enough to express what he exactly thought of this manipulative, self-righteous little shrew who had just thrown his best friend into an infinite spiral of self-hatred he might never break away from. Right now the thing he'd thought was his friend was attempting to wail out warbled words that tried to resemble "I love you".

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Harry roared. "Ron was right, you _are_ a nightmare, _you_ 're his worst nightmare! How he fell in love with you I'll never, ever know!"

"I was –" she sobbed, and he decided to let her keep going since she wanted to talk so much; see how she justified all the horrors she had tried to feed him. "I wanted – I – I –"

"Take your time, Hermione, it's not like my best friend might try to do himself in any minute now", Harry drawled, nodding towards the entrance of the tent – in case she was stupid enough to believe he was referring to her. She could be depressed all she wanted and he wouldn't give a damn.

"I always did the right thing!" she wailed, and she was lucky he'd gotten away from her or else he might have slapped her again. "I do all I can to help you – I – I don't have to be in love with Ron!"

That was her defence? That was it? 'Remember when I was useful to you'? Did she thought that people were just – just – commodities to be used and discarded as one pleased? That he was friends with Ron because Ron was _useful_ , and not because Ron was funny as hell and great to hang out with and made life worth living and was practically more than a brother to him –

"No, you don't have to be in love with Ron", Harry said coldly. "But you don't have to be in love with someone to treat them like actual fucking human beings, not like some… some _toys_ without emotions that you can drop when you're bored with them! Because that's exactly how Dark Lords think!" he screamed, and found out that he couldn't even regret any of his words, because he could feel it, deep in his soul, that they were _true_. Having insight into an actual Dark Lord's mind only helped his case too.

"But since you want me to dump what doesn't have a use to me, fine", he continued as he rummaged around the tent, picking up his backpack and getting the Snitch Dumbledore had left him; the Tales of Beedle the Bard, even though these still hadn't helped them; the sword of Gryffindor; the remains of the locket; Hagrid's mokeskin pouch; Ron's rucksack that he'd forgotten the night he had gone away… and he walked back to Hermione.

"Give me your wand."

"Wh… what?" she squeaked.

"Or lift the spell you put on the door, but let me out!" he barked.

She was looking at him like he was a zero on her homework.

So she still didn't get it. "Listen, I'm only thinking in your own terms", he shrugged. "What use were you on this hunt? Even less than Ron, and he was injured… or did you forget about that, too?" he smiled sweetly, imitating Umbridge to the best of his ability. "How you botched your Side-Along and Splinched him? How you packed a hundred books that didn't help us with _anything_ but forgot to bring _food_? How our brilliant expedition to Godric's Hollow turned out?"

"I was the only one packing!" she screeched, and that gave Harry pause. "You did nothing because you always rely on me to do everything for you! You want to leave? Fine then, go, see if I care, you ungrateful swine! Get your precious Ronald and have his babies if you think so highly of him! But you're useless without me! You need me, you never do anything on your own, I'm the only one who actually gets things done in this group!"

… That was right.

That was very, very right.

He relied on Hermione often.

Much too often.

Time to cut the umbilical cord.

"Well, then I really _need_ to ditch you", Harry said brightly as Hermione's jaw dropped. "You're right, I rely way too much on you, in a way you made me lazy." He clapped his hands together. "Well, that's it then. You've got your wand, you've got your Apparition license, you're supposed to be brilliant at everything, you can flee the country, find your parents and stay holed up in Australia until the end of the war. Thank you, Hermione, for being _useful_ to me, but I won't need your _services_ anymore; I think I'm ready to _grow up_ and _become a better person_. You should try that, too."

And apparently, his magic was a sucker for theatrics, because somehow Harry managed to cross the tent's flap in a flourish without any hindrance and with Hermione still shell-shocked on the tent's floor.

Finally, some air.

Finally, his actual best friend.

Ron startled, stood up, and wiped at his eyes with his hand, before giving Harry the same fragile-looking smile he'd given before Hermione had come between them. His eyes were still glistening, still red and still puffy, as if he'd withheld an entire ocean's worth of tears inside.

That was it. No more heartbreak. From now on, Harry's mission would be to kick bloody Voldemort's arse and to make sure Ron never got that look on his face ever again.

He didn't even fight it: he just stepped forward and threw his arms around his best mate's shoulders, standing on tiptoe because Ron was really bloody tall; but then the redhead seemed to shrink into his hug, and it was only when Harry heard the other boy's breath hitch that he realized Ron had quite simply collapsed in his arms, sobbing.

"'M sorry. 'M so bloody sorry", cried his best friend, his first ever friend.

"I'm sorry too", Harry said, and he meant it. "For not taking you seriously, for not seeing what it was doing to you…"

"Not your fault", Ron sniffled, withdrawing from the hug and frantically rubbing his eyes. "I'm the one who let it go to my head. I was the prat who fucking left, I was the idiot who believed in that bloody locket –"

"No", Harry said firmly, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder. "The locket affected all of us. It was a bloody Horcrux, Ron, you've seen what these things are capable of. Look at what Ginny went through; that was a Horcrux. Had you kept wearing it, it'd have gotten worse! I don't how it would have ended up, but we should never have worn it in the first place! We could have tried to kill one another!"

Ron looked half-way relieved and even more horrified, his eyes still letting the occasional tear fall.

"But the thing I'm most sorry for, it's Hermione", Harry kept going, and he could just _feel_ Ron's inner knight-in-shining-armour grab his sword to slay the dragon who dared attack his fair maiden. "No, stay quiet for a minute: she was a bitch to you. A complete and utter bitch."

Ron dropped his gaze down. "But she was right –"

"She just parroted the damn locket!" Harry said fiercely, willing Ron to understand, praying he'd manage to break through his love for a girl who treated him like shit and cried whenever he did something she didn't approve of; "If it's how she thinks of you, why do you love her?"

"She's brilliant!" Ron cried out. "She's brilliant, clever, kind, she's never wrong, she's – she's perfect, Harry –"

"Someone who actually believes in the crap a Dark Lord's soul says doesn't deserve to be called brilliant or kind", Harry affirmed, wanting Ron to realize he'd been battling Voldemort himself. "And she might always be right on an exam; but life isn't an exam, else you and I would be dead by now." To Harry's elation, this drew a timid chuckle from his best friend.

"There are girls who are kind, clever, brilliant even, and who won't act like you're supposed to not feel anything whenever they're acting shitty. I promise you, I never, ever felt the least bit of her connection crap she told you about. Hell, if anything, _you_ 're the one I have a special connection to, you're the one person I'd miss the most, remember?" Harry paused and felt his face heat up when he realized how sappy that sounded. Ron had the decency to not laugh about it; he was a bit busy blushing bright pink.

"So, um, any idea where we should go next?" Harry finally said after a few seconds of nothing but silent blushing.

"We could go to Shell Cottage, that's Bill and Fleur's house", Ron answered. "I'll Side-Along you two, and we'll –"

"Hermione's not coming", Harry interrupted.

Ron stopped right in his tracks.

"What do you mean, she's not coming? We can't leave her alone, there are Snatchers who'll try to take her – we can't abandon her, I already did once, I'm not doing it again –"

"She doesn't want to come with us", he rectified, taking a hold of Ron's wrist to stop him from dragging Hermione out of the tent. "She's the one abandoning us this time."

Ron stayed rooted to the spot, looking at the tent as though it was an open grave.

"But… no, she's not", he whispered dazedly. "She stayed with you when I didn't… she'd never abandon you… she…"

"Trust me, she can, and she already did", Harry said as he remembered how she'd gotten his Firebolt confiscated behind his back, or how she'd gotten into a jealous snit when he'd become better than her at Potions. "Come on. Let's go…" he said, as he patted his pocket to get his wand out, and he cursed when he remembered he didn't have one. "Uh, you've got your wand? If you don't feel up for Side-Along, I'll do it…"

Ron broke out of his melancholy for a moment. "Oh, uh, here", he mumbled, taking out three different wands from his pocket. "Got them from the Snatchers that found me… when, you know…"

"Genius!" Harry exclaimed, having had enough of seeing Ron beating himself up over his departure. "Give me a second and I'll –"

"No, it's fine", the redhead said, shaking his head as if clearing it from his thoughts. "The risk of Splinching is higher when it's not your own wand", he muttered as if for himself, and Harry thought wryly that Hermione might have listened in class but Ron had always been the only one to ever listen to Hermione. He hoped she was regretting her life choices.

"I love her", Ron murmured miserably, throwing one last look of mourning at the tent.

"I know, mate", Harry told him sympathetically. "But trust me, the way she's treated you… You've dodged one hell of a bullet there."

 **MINI-EPILOGUE:** Harry and Ron go to Shell Cottage and decide to ditch Dumbledore's orders and talk to Bill about the Horcruxes; Bill informs the Order of their existence and everybody starts searching; Ron makes some wild guesses and comes up with the idea that Voldemort might have given another one of his Horcruxes to one of his Death Eaters for safekeeping; with the help of Bill and Dobby, Hufflepuff's Cup is retrieved and disposed of.  
Harry is adamant one of the Horcruxes is at Hogwarts; Ron ends up making a joke about just asking the Room of Requirement to make a passage that leads to it; with the help of McGonagall and Dobby, Ravenclaw's Diadem is retrieved and disposed of.

Voldemort kills Grindelwald who talks about the Elder Wand and Harry asks for Ron's opinion, and Ron tells Harry the Tale of the Three Brothers; Harry briefly obsesses about the Elder Wand while Ron and the Order plan out the final battle; Voldemort obtains the Elder Wand, thus ending Harry's brief obsession (thank God because the gay jokes kept writing themselves); the Order plans a way to attract Riddle's attention some place far away from Hogwarts or any populated place really, thereby unknowingly saving the lives of Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown and countless other students.  
Harry disarms Draco Malfoy while running around the battlefield; Severus Snape kills Nagini and finally does something actually good but dies doing so and uses Legilimency to throw his memories in Harry's face like a screamer in a cheap horror game; Harry realizes he needs to die by Voldemort's hand; Harry dies by Voldemort's hand; Harry wakes up from death; Harry doesn't do a grand speech about wandlore before killing Riddle; Harry kills Riddle.

Harry either marries Ginny and has three children, none of them named Albus Severus, or he marries Ron, because come on, why ship Drarry when Harron exists, and they adopt five children; Ron either marries Luna and they conceive the first ever female twins to be born to the Weasley family, as well as two sons and another daughter, or he marries Harry and they still adopt five children.  
(If you want them to marry their wives but also marry each other, go wild. Molly Weasley loves you for providing her with so many grandchildren to dote on.)

As for Hermione, she joins her parents in Australia and re-modifies their memories so they just think they've thought about moving their dentistry business there for a while; she'll briefly try to dab into the whole "being a Dark Lord" business just to show Harry up but she'll soon realize that she's such a nightmare to satisfy that nobody wants to be her evil minion, so she'll just settle down for a bachelor life in which she'll see through five generations of cats.


End file.
